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Authors: Eric Brown

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Xenopath (20 page)

BOOK: Xenopath
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"Safer?"
she asked, glad that it had spoken, but puzzled by what it said.

The less you
know, the less there is for the killer to read.

She thought
about that. "The killer's a telepath?"

Correct.

The silence
stretched. That was bad. Ft was bad enough that the killer was trying
to find her, but even worse that the killer was a mind-reader too.

"Khar,"
she asked at last, knowing that the thing in her head would not
answer her question. "Just what are you?"

Evidently Khar
was considering whether to tell her. At last it said,
As the
telepath knows this already, there is no danger in telling you. I am
a Hortavan, a being from another world.

Pham shook her
head in wonder. "Am I going mad, or do 1 have an alien in my
head?"

You are quite
sane, Pham.

She laughed, but
it was a nervous laugh. "Why did the telepath kill the man in
the park?"

Because be,
the telepath, wanted me dead.

Pham thought
about that. "Which is why the killer is trying to find me,
ah-cha? He read my mind when you got into my head, and now he wants
to kill me—and you."

That is
correct. I am sorry.

Pham shrugged.
"I don't know what to say, I've never had an alien in my head
before—and I've never been chased by a killer. You said that
soon you'll move on?"

That is
correct. In time, I will leave you. You will he safe, then.

She thought
about her next question, then said, "Why does the telepath want
to kill you, Khar?"

Silence. "Khar?
Please answer me."

At last the
voice came again.
Because I am opposed to what the telepath's
employers are doing on my planet.

Pham frowned,
thinking through Khar's words. "What are they doing?" she
asked at last.

It will be
best, and safer for you, if you do not know that.

"Ah-cha,"
she said, nodding. "But can you tell me what you are doing on
Earth?"

I... I am
trying to locate someone
, Khar said.

"Who?"
she asked.

Again, it
would be dangerous to tell you that.

"But it
could only be dangerous," she said, frowning in concentration,
"if a telepath read what I know."

Correct.

"Well—"
she made a spread-fingered gesture of frustration. "Why wouldn't
it be dangerous if a telepath read
your
thoughts?"

That is
impossible. My thoughts cannot be read by humans. My mind is too
alien.

Pham shrugged.
"So how come I can communicate with you?"

She felt, then,
what might have been a smile in her head.
Because I have studied
your mind
, Khar replied,
and I am communicating with you in
your own language. I am reading your thoughts—you are not
reading mine.

That made a kind
of sense. She asked, "How long will you stay in my head, Khar?"

Until I have
found who I am looking for.

"Any idea
how long that might be?"

No,
Knar
responded, and then fell silent.

Pham sat in the
roots of the banyan tree and watched life go on around her. All these
people were leading their own very important lives, going about their
business, and not one of them knew about her and the alien in her
head. It made her feel proud and important... and also a little
scared.

She was about to
ask Khar which planet it came from, when its voice sounded in her
head. It was the first time that Khar had asked her something.

Pham, do you
trust me?

It was odd. but
she had never thought about that before. She felt no fear of the
thing in her head— never had—and Khar had helped her win
money, after all.

She shrugged.
"Ah-cha. I think so, yes."

Will you help
me find who I am looking for?

She thought
about that. "Will it be dangerous?"

A few seconds
elapsed, and then Khar replied, I
will attempt to make it as safe
as possible.

"So it
will
be dangerous."

It might be.

Pham thought
about it. "Thing is, you can control me, right? So even if I
said I didn't want to help me, you could make me do it."

I would not
force you to do anything, Pham. If yon refuse, which is entirely
reasonable, then 1 will move on, find someone else.

It was Pham's
turn to be silent for a time, now. She considered what Khar had said.
How would she feel, not having the special alien in her head? She
would miss him, his conversation and his help. Khar had become a kind
of friend.

Of course, if
she agreed to help him, then she would be in danger, no matter what
Khar said.

She smiled to
herself. Until now, she had always thought of Khar as an "it".
Now she realised that she thought of Khar as "him".

She said, "This
person you're looking for... I know you can't tell me who it is, but
can you tell me if he's bad?"

Khar replied,
Yes, he is bad.

She considered
this, then said, "Then I'll help you, Khar." She paused. "I
bet you knew that—I bet you read my thoughts—even before
I answered, ah-cha?"

Pham felt the
smile in her head again.

She said, "So...
how do we find this person you're looking for?"

She took a
'chute up to Level One, then walked to a tram station and caught a
northbound express to Kandalay. At first, leaving the safety of
Gandhi Park, she felt afraid, vulnerable. She thought that everyone
was looking at her, that everyone knew she had an alien riding in her
head. She also thought that at any minute the telepathic killer would
find her again, and this time he wouldn't just call out her name, but
shoot her dead.

But as the train
carried her rapidly north, and no one in the carriage paid her the
slightest attention, she realised that she was safe. She was one
small girl among millions of people, and even if the killer could
read her mind, he would have to find her first.

When the train
pulled into Kandalay station, she left the carriage with the rest of
the passengers and found herself on a wide, quiet street lined with
grand houses and flashy air-cars. Pham had never seen such a quiet,
unpopulated area before—it was even quieter than Gandhi Park.
She tried to imagine living in one of the big houses along this
street— they were bigger even than Mr Prakesh's factory. Twenty
people could live in one of these houses quite comfortably. She
thought of her bunk on Level Twenty. In these houses she would have a
room to herself.

Khar interrupted
her thoughts.
Turn left and walk along the street towards the open
area bordering the edge of the Station.

She turned and
strolled along the street, hitching her teddy-bear backpack onto her
shoulders. Khar hid suggested she have a shower at a communal washing
block before she set off, and then buy a new set of clothes. She was
dressed now in a brand-new pair of blue trousers, a white blouse, and
real leather sandals instead of her old, worn flip-flops.

She said, "Does
the person you're trying to find know that you're coming, Khar?"

No.

"So it'll
he a surprise?"

Khar did not
reply immediately. It was a while before he said,
The man is an
enemy of my people. 1 need to find him, watch him, before we
approach.

"And then?"
Pham felt her heart beating fast.

And then 1
must consider the best, and safest, course of action.

"Khar,"
Pham said after a while, "the man you're trying to find, he has
something to do with what is happening to the people on your planet,
right?"

The mind-smile
from Khar, again.
Pham, for a seven-year-old orphan with no formal
education, you are perspicacious.

Pham laughed.
"And what does that mean?"

He told her.

She smiled.
"Thanks—so, I'm right, ah-cha?"

Ah-cha.

She paced on,
along the deserted sidewalk, staring towards the end of the street
and the gates of what looked like a park. She said. "So... this
person is working with the telepath?"

Yes.

She fell silent.
She was thinking that, as Khar couid read her thoughts, he would know
what she was thinking: that the situation was more dangerous than
Khar had told her it might be.

She smiled to
herself as he responded to that.
Pham. I will be careful, okay?
You might find this hard to believe, but I have become close to you
over the past two days.

"Close?
You're sitting in my head!" She laughed. "But thanks
anyway."

They came to the
gates. She stopped and stared through the bars. The green area beyond
the gates and the perimeter fence was a kind of park. She saw men
riding around in little buggies. From time to time they climbed out,
took sticks from the buggy, and stroked the grass with them. Then
they climbed back into the buggies and drove off, stopped, climbed
out again and stroked the grass.

"What are
they doing?" she asked.

It is a very
popular game with the rich of Earth. It is called golf.

She watched more
closely, and this time saw that the men were hitting tiny white balls
across the grass.

"It isn't
as exciting as skyball," she said. "So what now?"

You will not
be allowed through the gates. Turn left and walk along the fence.

She did as
instructed. Trees grew inside the green area and obscured the view of
the players. From time to time she could glimpse buggies going back
and forth, and men hitting the small white balls towards poles with
flags on top. It looked like a crazy game to Pham.

Now,
Khar
said,
climb over the fence.

She looked over
her shoulder. The golf area was next to a parking lot full of big
shiny air-cars and ground-effect vehicles. She could see no one
looking her way.

Quickly she dug
her fingers through the diamond-mesh fencing, crammed her toes into
the gaps, and hauled herself up. Seconds later she swung over the top
and jumped down into the grass, ducking behind a bush and breathing
hard.

"Now what?"

Move to the
edge of the fairway.

"What's the
fairway?" she asked.

The mown area
where the buggies and the players are. Make sure you aren't seen.

"Ah-cha."
She crept forward and ducked behind a bush next to the fairway. One
part of her was excited. The other part, the little kid just up from
the depths of the Station, wondered if all this was real. Was she
really sneaking through the open grass on Level One, with an alien in
her head?

She peered
through the leaves of the bush at a passing buggy.

"How do you
know this guy will be here?"

Khar said.
Every Sunday at eleven, he plays a round of golf, alone. It's the
only time his bodyguards leave his side.

"How do you
know all this?"

A hesitation,
then the voice in her head said,
Kormier, the man killed in the
amusement park. I obtained the information from his mind.

Pham thought
about this, then said, "Were you hiding inside Kormier's mind,
before he was shot?"

Khar replied.
That is correct.

Pham nodded, and
then said, "And if the man comes along today?"

We just
watch. Later, when we find the safest location in which to apprehend
him.

"And then
what?"

Silence. Then
Khar said,
There! Stop...

"What is
it?" Pham felt her pulse quicken.

The buggy to
your left, coming into view from the ninth hole...

"That's
him?"

That is him.

Pham stared. The
driver of the buggy was a big Westerner with a big face and wavy
silver hair. He looked rich and overfed, and Pham didn't like the
look of his thick lips.

Despite what
Khar had said, the man was not alone. In the seat beside him was
another Westerner, not as big as the first man.

"Khar, I
thought—"

I'm sorry.

"What?"
Pham said in panic.

The buggy had
stopped. The dark Westerner jumped out. He swung around madly, as if
looking for something, someone. He pulled a laser from his jacket and
cried out to the silver-haired Westerner in a language Pham didn't
understand.

The big white
man ducked down in the buggy, wrapping his head in his arms,

He knows
you're here!
Khar said.
Very well. Get back to the fence and
climb over. Run through the car park. There's a 'chute station on the
next street. I'll guide you. Now run'

The
Westerner—the telepathic killer, Pham wondered?—was still
turning, laser sweeping the fairway. He focused on the rough grass
where Pham was cowering.

Pham took off.
Putting the bush between her and the Westerner, she ran like the
wind, dodging trees and bushes and arriving at the fence in seconds.
She had no memory of climbing over—but a second later she was
on the other side and sprinting through the car park.

The first laser
shot smashed the windshield of a flier about a metre from Pham—the
second hit the tank of a ground effect vehicle, and the resulting
explosion almost knocked her off her feet. She kept running, glancing
over her shoulder to see a great blooming cloud of oily black smoke
obscuring the golf course. There was no sign of the killer, who would
have to take a detour around the fire to get to her.

She had gained a
few seconds.

Left
,
Khar ordered as she sprinted from the parking lor. She streaked down
the street. The advantage of being in a rich area like this was that
there was no one on the streets to get in her way, or to try to stop
her.

BOOK: Xenopath
2.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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